


Hungry Like the Wolf

by Swing Set in December (swing_set13)



Series: Sweet Talk 101 [19]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:35:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swing_set13/pseuds/Swing%20Set%20in%20December
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hungry Like the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [checkmatey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/checkmatey/gifts).



> For the tumblr prompt: Derek/Stiles, park cause i always think of a park when is see your username <3

It’s Stiles’ favourite spot. The chain-linked swing set lifts him higher with every push. He feels his problems melt away as the wind rushes around him. He’s lost in the moment before he looks down to see Derek sitting on a spring rocker. The penguin one. Stiles pulls out his feet, hitting the sand with a jolt, leaving tracks in the sand box as he slows his momentum to a stop.

“Derek?” he gapes. Because it’s not everyday the pack’s alpha can be seen perched on a metal penguin.

Derek just rocks backwards. As if it’s normal behavior for him to be there at six in the morning rocking back and forth on Stiles’ second favourite piece of playground equipment with more dignity than Stiles could even manage when he was actually age appropriate.

“Breakfast?” Derek asks instead, ignoring Stiles’ deer in headlights expression.

Stiles snaps his gaping mouth shut before nodding. The park will soon get busier and he’ll eventually have to concede the swings to one of the neighborhood kids.

“I could eat,” he replies. “Unless you want to spend some more time with Mr. Guin.”

Derek’s eyes crinkle in amusement, making Stiles’ heart pick-up. “Me and Pen go way back,” he taps the rocker’s head fondly like it's a noble steed instead of a penguin rocket ship hybrid and jumps off with supernatural grace. “But I prefer the swings.”

“Me too,” grins Stiles, licking his lips. This is the most surreal conversation he’s ever had with Derek. He wonders if he’s still asleep in his bed. But his stomach rumbles loudly. “You said something about pancakes?”

Derek shrugs and gestures towards the Camaro parked in the empty lot. “I like waffles.”

“Of course you do,” sighs Stiles. “That rules out IHOP.”

“They do serve waffles,” says Derek, letting Stiles catch up to him before heading towards his car.

“It’s a house of pancakes. It’s sacrilegious to order anything else,” says Stiles, emphasizing his point with his arms. He nearly trips on the sidewalk but Derek’s hand steadies him.

“They’ll live,” Derek says before knocking Stiles towards the passenger side.

“Really? Really Derek?” asks Stiles. “Because I doubt the international committee of pancakes takes waffles lightly.”

Stiles slides into the car, still reeling on the fact Derek eats breakfast. Well, one that isn’t made in a little werewolf oven.

“There’s a committee?” muses Derek, as he gets into driver’s side.

“Of course there’s a committee!” squawks Stiles.

Derek’s bottom lip quirks before putting the key into the ignition. “I’m pro maple syrup.”

“Canadian?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“Good answer.”

Stiles ignores the skip of his heart, he's probably just running low on sugar. It's got nothing to do with Derek's ridiculously handsome face and the promise of pancakes.


End file.
